Eli was seated on the rocking chair when Sarah came
downstairs for breakfast the next morning. “Go on and get
some mush,” Eli said as he puffed on his pipe and shined
his black boots. “Lizzie’s got it ready in the kitchen.
Hurry up now, girl. I’m leavin’ for town here shortly.”

“Thanks,” Sarah said.

“Oh, and about this future talk,” Eli said, “let’s stop playing games. That won’t help any of us out.”

“Yes, sir, but you don’t understand. I live here in this house in the year 2007.”

“Don’t be silly, girl. Where are your parents? If you’ve got any, they must be worried sick,” Eli said.

“It’s really true. Lizzie believes me. My Aunt Ruth told me all the stories about Willy, Theresa, and the others. I think you might be my Great Great Great Grandfather, and I don’t even know how I got here. I was at the cemetery and-”

Willie ran into the house, two cans of paint in his arms and
his slingshot dangling from his teeth. “I’m off to paint the
barn,” he said, “wish I could go to town too.”